Chapter Twenty-Three
SUSPICISIONS
“Nine years ago, I was sitting at this terminal.”
Matthew looked up from his phone; they had been waiting at the airport terminal for nearly an hour, their flight having been delayed for pathetic reasons by the flight staff.
“And then in a couple of weeks’ time, I’d have met you.”
“Well,” Matthew amended, “we’d have started sitting at the same table. You didn’t talk to me until October. October sixteenth, if you’re interested.”
“You remember the date we started talking?”
“I remember a lot of our first things,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss her lips softly. “I kissed you for the first time on December twenty-first-”
“That was after… the airport incident, wasn’t it?” Amy relieved the moment; the fear of the moment, followed by the calmness and safety offered by Matthew, little more than a friend at that time. “We fell asleep together on the couch. I remember that much.”
Matthew smiled, casually playing with a lock of Amy’s hair. “But we didn’t have our first real kiss until the New Year.”
“Right on midnight,” Amy smiled.
“I remember how nervous I was. I’d never made the first move before, in any relationship. But I had to this time, because you were too damn clueless.”
Amy didn’t retaliate to the ‘clueless’ jibe, because she knew in her heart that it was true. “I remember your lips quivering. But they were really warm.” She leant in and kissed him once again, smiling.
“Christmas Eve,” Matthew continued when their kiss ended, “was the first time we slept together; I woke up the next morning to the best Christmas gift ever.”
Amy laughed. “How can you talk like that without laughing? You sound so…”
“In love?”
“I was going to say pathetic.”
Matthew smiled. “So I had you in my bed since Christmas Eve, but I didn’t get around to making love with you until March nineteenth. I told you that I loved you for the first time the following morning. And that was about as nerve-racking as when I kissed you on New Years’ Eve.”
“Shh!” Amy hissed, worried that the other people in the terminal were overhearing their conversation.
“And the day you finally agreed to let me move here with you,” Matthew continued, ignoring Amy’s concerns, “was one of the best days of my life. April seventeenth. That day was as good, if not better, than the day I proposed to you.”
“I remember that day – you thought I was asking you to get in my pants.”
“If I do recall correctly, I believe you were wearing a dress.”
Amy stared blankly for a while in disbelief. “You have a scary memory.”
At that, Matthew laughed. They kissed once again, but Amy broke away when she heard a girl chime to her friend, “Naw, look at the couple over there!”
YOU ARE READING
Recovering Amy (Amy, #2)
Romance“You’re mine,” it told her in her dreams, “you don’t deserve happiness”. She would wake up screaming most nights, crying, begging for forgiveness that no one dared to offer her. She was sorry – she didn’t mean for anything quite so terrible to happe...
